


Catharsis

by RedheadedBlondeBitxh



Category: Fallout 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:01:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedheadedBlondeBitxh/pseuds/RedheadedBlondeBitxh
Summary: Freeform musings about Nora, Female Sole Survivor, and how she is coping with the wasteland (not well)
Kudos: 4





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> Very very short freeform poem

It was easy, at times, to forget who she was two hundred years ago. Before the bombs fell and her life came to a crashing halt.

It was simple, to pretend that she had always been a cold heart bitch that never let anyone close.

It was cathartic, to drown herself in liquor and act like she had always been nothing more than a wild, furious tsunami, ready to destroy anyone and anything that crossed her path.

It was natural, to hide behind a thousands layers, covering and obfuscating her life as the woman she was, before it all went to shit.

Before she lost the only good thing she’d ever been smart enough not to fuck up.

She couldn’t keep her job. Her closest friend decided to kill himself instead of opening up to her about the horrors he was facing. Hell, she couldn’t even keep her first pregnancy before her body decided she wasn’t fit to be mother and she fucked that up too.

It was foolish, to hope that things had actually been turning around after Shaun was born. Nate changed his hours at the office, and she finally had everything she’d ever wanted and ever dreamed of...

Until she didn’t.

Nora looked at the bottle of whiskey in her hand, letting out a bitter scoff as she read the label.

William Larue.

Two hundred years ago the bottle would have been worth hundreds of dollars. That evening she bought it from White Chapel Charlie for fifteen rusty bottle caps.

It was laughable, really.

She took a long swig from the bottle, breathing in the pleasant burn that only good whiskey could provide as she closed her eyes, savoring the flavor.

Cait grunted as she turned over in the bed opposite her, letting out what Nora was half certain was a slew of incoherent curse word as she readjusted against the mattress.

At times it was easy.

It was simple.

It was cathartic.

It was natural.

That night it wasn’t.


End file.
